A Theory of Firsts

You might be wondering why I chose the name “A Theory of Firsts” for this newsletter. When I look back at my journey with Selective Mutism, I realize that progress often began with a single, very tiny “first.” Whether it was the first time I whispered a word to a teacher or the first time I pushed myself to join a small group activity, each of those moments felt monumental—almost as big for me as an entire country deciding to go to the moon. Over time, stacking up these small but significant wins helped me build the confidence I needed to speak more freely and feel more comfortable.

I call it a theory because I truly believe this idea of “firsts” can apply to anyone—even if you’re not dealing with SM. Facing anxiety about meeting new people? That first conversation might open the door to a whole new friend group. Nervous about raising your hand in class or at work? Getting clarification on something, might mean you learning something new or just feeling defeated.

Whenever I feel stuck, I remind myself to look for the next small step, the next “first” to conquer. It’s like collecting puzzle pieces that eventually form a bigger picture of growth and possibilities.

I remember one morning in kindergarten. I had already spent seven months only ever standing next to the door underneath the light switch, too anxious to move any further into the room. I had never stepped more than a few inches away from that spot. On this particular day, my doctor and my mom came to school with me early. Their plan was to help me reach my desk, which was just a few steps from the door. In the room that morning, it was just the three of us alone with the door closed. They sat in the seats next to mine, slowly and gently encouraging me to tiptoe over. It took about an hour, but I finally did it, and I stayed seated there as the rest of the class filed in.

That small shift was my “first” step toward being in the same space as my classmates. It didn’t instantly erase my fear, but it proved that these small actions—however awkward and uncomfortable—can add up and open doors to bigger opportunities. It was the first step to the rest of everything else I overcame.

That’s the essence of “A Theory of Firsts.” It’s about honoring the mini-leaps forward that may look insignificant at first glance but are crucial to overcoming bigger challenges. However small it seems, every first sets the stage for the next one.

To the next first,
Jonathan